Sarrak: A STWOR Story
by Athena Starsnow
Summary: Arierra Sarrak, an agent of the Sith Empire's Imperial Intelligence spy network, discovers a startling truth about herself. Dodging the threat of betrayal at every turn and the ever-changing complexities of Sith politics, Arierra must look deep within herself to find the strength to survive this new and dangerous world.
1. Chapter 1: The Red Blade

13

AUTHOR'S NOTES

Before we begin, since this is FAN fiction, there are a few departures from the canon of the SWTOR story. Several large changes involve the Sith Inquisitor. In SWTOR the Inquisitor storyline happens roughly at the same time as the other characters'. In this story, the Inquisitor's storyline is finished well before my main character's has even started and as follows, the Inquisitor is a member of the Dark Council. In addition, the Inquisitor has romanced and married Ashara Zavros, who is not Togruta, but has been changed to human. The reasons for these changes are addressed very early in the story (at the start of Chapter 2) but I'd rather not spoil things in this introduction.

This is my first published writing of any kind. Feel free to leave comments if you wish. Thank you so much for checking out my first foray into writing, and I hope you enjoy Sarrak: A SWTOR Story. May the Force be with you!

PRELUDE

It is a pivotal time for the SITH EMPIRE. Having secured an uneasy truce with the GALACTIC REPUBLIC, the Empire now seeks allies among the neutral systems.

The foul planet HUTTA is the Empire's latest target, but its wealthy and corrupt crime lords refuse to take side in the cold war between Republic and Empire.

To tip the scales, Imperial Intelligence's latest shadowy operative has been dispatched to Hutta under command of the Empire's mysterious spymaster….

Chapter I: The Red Blade

The starship appeared out of nowhere just a few million kilometers away from the target planet. Drifting unnoticed past the dozens of ships itching to land on the smuggler's moon Nar Shaddaa, the ship continued its course to the Hutt controlled planet, uncreatively named Hutta. A sickly shade of olive green permeated the clouds above Hutta, indicating a toxic atmosphere only a Hutt could find comfortable. The oceans were a dull brown, suggesting a similar lethality in the water. The ship pushed past all of it and surprisingly found no resistance in the upper atmosphere, touching down safely in a semi-crowded spaceport landing zone not far from the settlement Jiguuna. Allowing for the rowdy crew of assorted drunkards, gamblers, smugglers, and riff-raff to leave first, the final passenger of the taxi ship finally exited the craft. She waited until it took off mere moments later to check her personal tracking device.

The objective was near. Continuing through the spaceport, she saw two suspicious Gamorrean pig-men looking around wildly, keeping tight grips on their axes. They started coming her way, but she slipped into the crowd easily. Regardless, she was still safe, still an unknown. The pig-men went right on past to confront a feisty bug-eyed Rodian. He went down quickly when one of the pig-men kneed him in the gut. She reminded herself there wasn't any time to watch the rowdy locals, and continued towards her assigned destination, the local cantina.

Proceeding to one of the back rooms, she quickly made sure nobody else was around, and started to tamper with a looped holorecording of a beautiful translucent Twi'lek dancer. With the right cross wiring and inputting into her portable device, she successfully uploaded the correct holofrequency of her contact. The dancing Twi'lek was replaced by the blue frizzy hologram of a stern looking older man wearing a grey Imperial Intelligence officer's uniform. His feet were firmly planted on the ground and his arms were behind his back. He was in a position of authority, ready to give orders.

"Secure transmission established. This is Keeper. We may speak freely, agent; prepare to receive your orders," the hologram said.

"Agent Arierra Sarrak, reporting for duty. Ready to receive my mission," the young woman replied.

"Yes, Agent Sarrak. You were chosen for this operation because of your exemplary performance and leadership skills displayed during your previous team-based missions on the capital world Dromund Kaas. Imperial Intelligence needs agents capable of working independently in the field. Now you apply your training to the real world.

"Nem'ro the Hutt and his organization run Jiguuna, and you're in town to convince Nem'ro to supply the Empire." Keeper delivered the rundown swiftly, his grimace never fading once. Apparently this Nem'ro was giving the Empire a lot of trouble.

"Give me background. What are we working from?" Arierra asked. Better to know as much going into the mission as possible.

"Jiguuna is an industrial town, and Nem'ro runs most of the industry. The Hutt supplies weapons, drugs, and raw materials—but not to us. We believe Nem'ro has been reluctant to lose Republic customers by publicly siding with the Empire. It's time he overcame this reluctance. We need to know what Nem'ro and his advisors are thinking before we can act. I want you to obtain access to the Nem'ro clan's inner circle.

"You'll require a cover identity. One of our contacts—an alien named Jheeg—has prepared a background for you and will provide the details."

"It's as good as done," Arierra said with a short nod. She had been quite successful with subterfuge missions before, and her confidence was exuding from her, enough for Keeper to notice.

"Don't underestimate the Nem'ro clan. The galaxy has seen more effective gangsters, but rarely more sadistic ones," Keeper warned. "Jheeg will be waiting for you at a safehouse. Locate him, take what he offers, then report to me. Your combat training should see you through, but expect brutality and expect to be targeted. Jiguuna isn't friendly to strangers. Keeper out."

The hologram disappeared in a blink. She tampered with the base of the projector and unplugged her device. The dancing Twi'lek returned, as if Arierra had never been there. She turned and exited the room, slipping past drunks as she stepped out into the muggy open air of Hutta. The safehouse wasn't too far away, but there was some blaster fire in the street. Probably some gang members riled up. It didn't bother Arierra. She was a master of stealth, even given her white-as-snow hair. She kept it clipped extremely short to keep it out of her face when looking through the scope of a blaster rifle, and to draw less attention. The last thing anyone wanted while working as an agent for Imperial Intelligence was attention.

She made it to the safehouse and found a hideous alien who could only have been her contact Jheeg. His head was horizontally elongated, with large round glassy eyes that had no pupils or irises at all, just shiny black reflective surfaces that made her shiver with unease.

"Wumba oomba juga las ta Jheeg," he grumbled.

_What did he just say? Must be speaking some alien language,_ she thought.

"Why couldn't you just speak Basic and make this easier on me? Hold on," she said with an exasperated sigh. She fiddled with her portable device and turned on the universal translator. "Could you please repeat that, I didn't quite understand the first time."

"You. You are here softly, from the Empire. I am Jheeg. I am expecting you. I have your new identity," the translator said. "Do you know the Red Blade? Small-time pirate. Rich. Mysterious. No one knows true species. Gender. Color. I planted rumors, made Nem'ro think the Red Blade is coming to visit—enjoy Hutt palace, do business. You will be the Blade. No one will doubt you."

"This sounds too easy, Jheeg. What's the catch?" Arierra asked. Nothing was ever this smooth. The alien was hiding something. She could feel it in her gut.

"Ah, yes. Catch is unfortunate. I will explain. Real Blade brings tribute to friends; brings presents, bribes. Real Blade is far away now, exploring Outer Rim. Won't cause trouble. Many things Nem'ro wants, things Nem'ro likes. Once Nem'ro has gifts, all suspicions go away. You become pirate. You become Red Blade. I contacted Imperial handlers. As assured, yes? The call is arriving now."

An audio device on the nearby table activated, and Keeper's voice started talking.

"Jheeg, from this point forward operational security will be at a premium. You will not contact us from this terminal again."

"Yes. Leaving for your privacy. I will await contact," Jheeg whispered. He left the safehouse and another hologram popped up from the audio device so that she and Keeper could talk face-to-face, more or less. Thank goodness that was over. Any more of that insufferable alien and she would have put her head through a wall.

"Now that you have your cover identity, your next task is to access Nem'ro's inner circle. Present yourself to the Hutt as a fellow gangster—as this Red Blade—and offer him Jheeg's gifts. One of the gifts is implanted with a listening device, which we will use to monitor conversations within Nem'ro's palace," Keeper explained.

"Are we listening for something specific?" Arierra asked.

"At this juncture, our primary goal is to find weaknesses in Nem'ro's organization. Even if the Hutt won't join us, we might influence his lieutenants. Talk to Nem'ro and his men. Determine who we can turn and how we can sway them. We will be listening."

We will be listening. It was always like that, wasn't it? Always listening. Always being watched, always aware of just how many eyes and ears were out there. It was calming and terrifying all at once.

"In that case, I'd better watch my mouth," Arierra said with a smirk. It was half joke, half serious.

"Yes, be careful what you say—and lose the accent. When you're in the Hutt palace, you're no longer an Imperial. Contact me from the palace cantina once Nem'ro has his "presents". Keeper out."

It was a short walk to the palace, but the humidity made it feel longer. As soon as she entered the palace a large man stepped in her path, blocking her from moving forward. He pressed a button on his in-ear commlink.

"This is Karrels. Tell the throne room that the Blade's arrived." Karrels gestured her to follow him further into the palace. He laid down the rules as they walked to the throne room. "When Nem'ro shows, stay at least five meters back and don't come up unless you're called. One wrong move and you're a pile of ash," he warned.

"You worried I'm going to cause trouble?" Arierra said in a flawless Republic backwater planet accent.

"Just going over the rules. You've got a reputation, and we don't want any problems."

They stepped through a doorway into the throne room and he was the first thing she saw. He was hard to miss. A gigantic beige slug with short grubby arms and two bulging eyes lay on a comfortable couch of royal purple and gold adornments. She could smell his rancid stench all the way from the back of the room. He waved them forward and they proceeded to present themselves.

Karrels spoke first. "Allow me to present Nem'ro the Hutt—the illustrious crime king of Jiguuna." Karrels gave a small bow and backed away. Arierra pulled out her translator; Hutts never bothered to speak Basic, it was beneath them.

"So, the Red Blade finally comes to visit the house of Nem'ro. Great honor comes to the both of us. I did not expect you to be so…soft, however. Very few pirates possess charms like yours. Hahaha!" Every word that came out of its hideously wide mouth made her want to throw up, but she held it in. She had to be professional, no matter how much she hated being near these putrid slime balls. "Now, let us see if the legends of the mighty Red Blade's generosity are true. What have you brought me and my clan?"

Looking around the room, it was clear that like all Hutts, Nem'ro was as greedy as he was ugly. The room was filled so many expensive decorations it was like a tornado came through a Corellian art gallery and settled down in Nem'ro's palace. It would be in her best interest to embellish as much as possible to get on the Hutt's good side.

"Vast treasures, plundered from worlds in every sector in the galaxy—" She nearly choked while saying this next part, "—all for you, great and powerful Nem'ro."

"You talk big, little pirate, but your boasts do not interest me." Karrels went over to the table and inspected the gifts. His eyes lit up with glee.

Karrels stepped forward to inspect the treasures. "Not bad! Nem'ro—the idols here are real aurodium. The cloth looks like—"

"I see, Karrels. I see. Mmm…" The Hutt was silent for a few seconds and then nodded his flabby head in approval. "You are an impressive and beautiful creature, Blade. You may conduct your dealings on Hutta with my approval. Now, experience the luxuries of my palace. Enjoy my slaves, and wallow in opulence! Let me introduce you to my advisors. You have met Karrels Javis; any business you have you may discuss with him. And this is Toth'lazhen—"

A fierce-faced red Twi'lek man got up from a chair and approached Nem'ro.

"Nem'ro, we have little time for guests right now. Security reports that Fa'athra and his clan have struck at our shipments again."

"WHAT!?" Nem'ro's whole body shook with rage. He started screaming and ranting, and Arierra took several steps back. All the movement was making his odor get worse. Karrels led her out of the throne room.

"Looks like your audience with Nem'ro is over. You'll have to forgive the interruption. I've been working for that Hutt since he killed my gang when I was thirteen. Trust me, you can't talk to him when he's like this."

"Thanks for the introduction. I look forward to doing business with all of you," she said.

"No problem. And hey, you don't have to be all business. Get a drink, relax, make yourself at home while you're here." Arierra gave him a firm handshake and made her way to the backroom of the palace cantina. Once again tampering with the holoreciever device, she tapped into Keeper's frequency.

Keeper's likeness appeared and he looked pleased. "Well done, agent. The listening device is working perfectly, and Nem'ro can keep no more secrets from us. Imperial Intelligence has determined that Nem'ro's human lieutenant—Karrels Javis—is the weak link in his operation. You're going to twist the man until he serves us."

Arierra nodded in confirmation. "He won't be any trouble to manipulate," she said, back to her stiff and proper Imperial accent. Keeper continued.

"Unfortunately, Karrels is on the verge of disfavor with Nem'ro, while the Twi'lek lieutenant—Toth'lazhen, I believe—is Nem'ro's rising star. I want you to go to Karrels and offer your services as the Red Blade. Do whatever is necessary to bring Karrels glory in Nem'ro's eyes." There was a moment of silence and Keeper's usual stiffness was overtaken by a glimpse of nerves.

"One other thing, agent. This operation of ours has drawn the attention of a member of the Dark Council—Darth Jadus himself. The Council's authority is second only to that of the Emperor. It's a rare…honor…for an Intelligence operation to be overseen in this way."

Arierra sensed his unease and decided to push. "With all due respect, what does the Dark Council care about Hutta? This operation isn't exactly a threat to the Sith."

"I don't know why Lord Jadus is interested. Nor is it our concern. The Sith aren't obligated to share their reasons. Report back once you've rendered whatever aid Karrels requires. Keeper out."

Not even five paces from Karrels' back office, a Zabrak stepped out in front of her to block her path. A crown of horns adorned his bald head, and his face was covered in light tattoos of intricate design.

_He's rather handsome for an alien_, she thought while eyeing him up, trying to find any potential weaknesses if this was going to get violent.

"Don't be in such a hurry, Blade. Don't you remember me? You're old buddy, Dheno Rey? I don't think you looked this good when we met up on Hoth—or so girly. But you couldn't be an imposter. You know your old friend Dheno." He cocked his head slightly, his eyes running up and down her body, smirking to himself.

_Cover is blown. There are always risks when going undercover, might as well play along, and get through this as quickly and quietly as possible._

"Of course, I remember you Dheno! How long's it been?" His smirk slowly faded.

"Little too long, it seems. Turns out we've got a problem. You see, you don't look like the Blade I know. The Blade who owes me credits. But…you say you're the Blade, my pretty lady friend, so I'll take you at your word and ask for my money. You understand?" She didn't like the look in his eye, but she had a few tricks up her sleeve. A lot of men could be easy to manipulate.

In her sweetest voice she could muster, she took one slow step towards Dheno and said "I thought we were close, Dheno. I thought you were my very, _very_ close friend."

He looked intrigued. "Yeah, I can see that…But come on. I really do need the cash if I'm gonna keep your little secret." _Damn, he wasn't backing down_. Sometimes she hated what she had to do to keep her cover safe. She stepped towards him again, placing her hand gently on his shoulder, caressing him softly.

"Come on, you're a good guy. You'd take a girl's last few credits? Leave her broke and wanting?" She leaned in closer. He pushed her away.

"It's tempting…really tempting. But I'm not talking about settling a bar tab here. I'm talking big credits. Either you give me what you owe me, or I start telling Hutts that the Blade's still dodging asteroid fields in the Outer Rim." He slowly reached for his blaster pistol, but Arierra cut him off before he could grab it. She blocked him and he kicked back at her. They scuffled for a few seconds and suddenly she was overwhelmed with awareness. The fight slowed down and she sensed terrible danger. She saw Dheno stabbing outward with a hidden knife, coming right for her gut. She reached out to try to redirect his arm but he simply stopped thrusting. It was like he had hit a solid invisible wall. The knife wouldn't go further. She pushed with all her might against him and suddenly he went flying backwards, all the way down the hallway, smacking into the wall. It all happened so fast, there was barely time to register what had happened. Dheno was unconscious on the floor.

_Did I just…? _

Her suspicions were confirmed when she felt a presence materialize behind her. She slowly turned around to see a tall figure, hidden under a thick black cloak. His face was shadowed, hidden well enough that the only features she could make out were the pointy tip of a chalk-white beard and his eyes. Oh those eyes. Those pale, piercing, ghostly white eyes. Not the yellow and red corruption normally associated with a master of the dark side of the Force. These eyes indicated something much, much worse. She managed to tear her gaze away from those eyes and look downward to see the glint of metal in his grip. Fast as lightning, a meter-long plasma beam protruded from the metallic hilt, lighting up the dim hallway in a splash of crimson light. The Sith raised his lightsaber up to her, the end of the red blade barely a centimeter away from the tip of her nose.

"We have much to discuss, Agent Sarrak," he said in a cold, commanding voice. He lowered the red blade down to his side.

She let out a frustrated sigh, never imagining she'd address this Lord of the Sith, member of the Dark Council, the universally feared and reviled Darth Phantos, ever again in her life.

"I imagine we do…father."


	2. Chapter 2: There Is No Emotion

16

Chapter II: There Is No Emotion

Born to two Force users, Darth Phantos and the Jedi Padawan Ashara Zavros, Arierra had been a Arierra had been an anomaly. She was born with ash-blonde hair. In addition, Phantos could sense no connection to the Force inside his daughter.

Neither Phantos nor his wife had blonde hair.

Both Phantos and Ashara were Force users.

Any other Sith would have killed his wife in a rage for the insult of infidelity, but Phantos was cold and calculating. Instead of hatred, Phantos simply ignored her, and left her to raise Arierra mostly on her own. Phantos was busy with his scheming to grab a seat on the Dark Council, and Ashara was happy enough with the arrangement if it meant seeing less of her husband.

Ashara's daughter was not a Force user, but Ashara could teach her what she knew, limited as it was. They trained together in secret, Ashara imparting the philosophies of the Jedi, practicing meditation, and Arierra's favorite activity: lightsaber forms. Arierra of course never touched a lightsaber, only using a wooden practice blade.

Though she sought the affection of her father, as she reached adolescence, she grew to understand his level of involvement in her life. Minimal contact with his non-Force attuned bastard child would keep Phantos' embarrassment in the back burner of his peer's minds and would easily keep Arierra's training a secret. This embarrassment lessened over the years as Arierra proved herself quite capable as an officer of the Imperial military when she reached adulthood. After only a year of service, she was quickly reassigned to Imperial Intelligence, where she further exceeded expectations as the youngest operative at only nineteen years old. Four years of covert undercover missions only sharpened her ability to lie, and to lie well. After all, she had been lying her whole life.

A violent shudder shook her from her introspection. The shuttle must've breached the atmosphere. She swallowed her fear and steeled herself for what was to come.

The imperial shuttle touched down on the landing platform, the doors opening to let in a blast of arid wind and blinding sunlight. Statues of ancient Sith Lords were carved into massive cliff facings of chiseled red stone, their intimidating stare looking down upon the denizens of Korriban. Arierra stepped out of the shuttle, escorted by two imperial officers, who stopped about halfway to the arrival gate and stood in formation.

She was all alone now.

At least that feeling was nothing new, she reminded herself.

There was a dark-skinned man with buzzed hair waiting for her. He wore rather standard Sith attire, black robes augmented by pieces of plasteel armor to cover vital areas. Compared to the rest of the faces she'd seen that day, he seemed somewhat amiable. She kept up her guard. Looks could be deceiving, and failure to recognize this could be deadly.

"At last, you've arrived. Good, good. There is much to do and every moment is critical," the man said. "I'm Overseer Tremel. For decades, I've administered the trials that prove who is and is not worthy to join the Sith Order. The trials are a chance to weed out the weak. Those who face them either survive and become Sith or die."

_Just treat this like any other mission,_ she told herself, trying to stay calm. She played Keeper's voice in her head.

_"The mission briefing: infiltrate the Sith Academy. You will assume the identity of a Sith Acolyte. You will perform the trials of the Sith, and you will achieve apprenticeship to a Master. This is a deep cover mission. Contact will be non-existent and if you are discovered we will not acknowledge you. This is your most dangerous mission yet, but I have confidence in your ability to serve the Empire."_

It was almost convincing. But the longer she looked in Overseer Tremel's eyes, the more she realized that this would most definitely not be like any of her undercover missions. She could feel his energy. She could feel the Force in and around him. She could feel the Force inside of herself.

It scared her.

She pushed down the fear, knowing all too well that any sign of weakness would be taken advantage of swiftly and brutally. Her mother had once told her that she was relieved that Arierra had no connection to the Force, so she wouldn't have to face the horrors of the Academy trials. Now her mother's worst fears had come to pass.

Only slightly shaken, Arierra was pleased at the ease of which she slipped into yet another persona, this time of the confident Sith acolyte.

"Mark my words, I am destined to be Sith."

That wasn't too ambitious, was it? She had met many Sith who were insufferable elitists, so assured of their great destinies.

With a single sentence, Overseer Tremel pierced through her disguise.

"It wasn't destiny that brought you here," he said with a half-smile.

_Oh... right. He can sense my lie through the Force_, she realized.

Her confidence was quickly slipping, and for a single moment of sheer panic, she had a crazy thought. The shuttle was still behind her. If she ducked and ran she could knock out the guards and fly away. Her eyes shifted to Tremel's belt and the lightsaber hitched to it. She wouldn't even make it a meter before the lightsaber had impaled her.

"You are here and ahead of schedule because of your...unique circumstances. I expect you to obey. You face your trials, you serve me, and I will make you the most powerful acolyte here." It was obvious that Tremel knew exactly what was on her mind, but he didn't sound overly threatening. In fact, she sensed a tiny bit of dread from him, deep down inside.

Of course. He knows who my father is. Anybody with half a brain would know. He's...afraid of me? No, that's not right. He's afraid of my father. If anything were to happen to me, my father would bring down his wrath upon those who wronged him.

After all, his reputation preceded him. He was legendary among the Dark Council. Cold, calculating, strategic. Almost like a Jedi in that way. If I want a chance at making it through this, I should keep up the strict professionalism I had in my Intelligence days...

"Sounds like a plan," she said simply.

Overseer Tremel nodded and continued.

"The trials themselves are difficult enough, but they are hardly the greatest threat you face. There's an acolyte here named Vemrin. He's your enemy, and he will try to kill you. We must prepare you."

"How is it that I already have a rival? Maybe he can be reasoned with?" she asked.

"There are no amends to be made with a creature like Vemrin. We must strengthen your bond with the Force to match his. All you need to know is that you are a threat to him, and he to you. We'll make sure you can stand up to that threat.

"That practice sword you've arrived with is insufficient—the blade of lesser acolytes. You need a dominating weapon. In the tomb of Ajunta Pall, there's an old armory. A strong Sith war blade awaits you there. The tomb is thick with K'lor'slugs—deadly, savage creatures. Be speedy but careful. They've been the end of many an acolyte. Once you acquire the war blade, I suggest you spend some time in the tomb bloodying it. Then come to me in my chambers in the Academy."

The journey through the tomb was rather uneventful. After briefly assisting an Imperial commando with a troublesome slug nest—"strengthening ties with Imperial military," as the man put it—she retrieved the war blade and headed up the ancient stairs out into the desert canyon.

Up ahead was a massive metallic pyramidal structure that could only be the Academy. It was rather intimidating, knowing how many powerful Sith roamed those halls. Her father could be in there somewhere, watching over her training, judging but not interfering. She found Tremel's office easily but was stopped just outside his door by two men. One was an angry looking man with a scar on his face, and the other was a bald hulking pile of muscle, towering over the both of them.

"Hey there, acolyte. Hold on a moment, let me get a look at you," the smaller man said with a gruff voice. He looked her up and down and frowned. "Hmmm...so you're Overseer Tremel's secret weapon, huh? Impressive, to be sure. Afraid the old man waited too long to make his move though. I'm Vemrin, and unlike you I've fought and bled for everything I have. I demand respect."

"This is a big place, Vemrin. There's more than enough room here for both of us," she said, trying to nip any sense of hostility in the bud. It was a tactic she used often in her Intelligence days.

_The less I have to look over my shoulder, the easier it is to get the job done, quick and clean_.

"I'm glad to hear you say that. There's plenty of room for you. Behind me. If Overseer Tremel had made his move a year ago, when I first arrived, you might've had a chance. But now—too little, too late." Arierra had no idea what kind of Sith politics game he was blathering on about, but he was starting to annoy her as much as Jheeg had back on Hutta.

The large man next to her turned to Vemrin.

"This is ridiculous, Vemrin. Let's just kill her already and hide the body," he suggested. Vemrin shook his head in refusal.

"We're not on Balmorra anymore, Dolgis. There are rules. Traditions. We'll leave the shortcuts to Overseer Tremel and his last pathetic hope here," Vemrin explained.

It was becoming quickly obvious to Arierra that there was no reasoning with Vemrin, so she decided to have a little fun and poke at him a bit.

_If this is going to be the last week of my life, I might as well loosen up a bit and enjoy it._

"You're not very good with people, are you?" she asked with a smirk.

"You're not funny. Just pathetic. And you've been warned. Coming, Dolgis?" Vemrin asked.

"Be right there, Vemrin," he said as Vemrin left them. Dolgis apparently had more to say.

"Listen to me, you useless priss. Acolytes aren't allowed to murder each other. But accidents happen. It isn't murder without witnesses. No more warnings. Vemrin's the alpha monster here. You go after Vemrin, you die." With that, he walked away.

Charming people, she thought as she walked through the door to Tremel's office. She found him conversing quietly with a young woman.

"Good, you've returned. You seem to be in one piece. Tell me, how do you like your new blade?" Tremel asked.

"I suppose this is sufficient," Arierra said plainly. Deep down, she was itching to hold a real lightsaber. The woman next to her narrowed her eyes and scowled in disgust.

"What are you doing father? I only just got my war blade, and I've been here six months!" she complained.

"I have my reasons, Eskella. And you will not breathe a word of this to anyone. Do you hear?" Tremel warned.

"Yes, father," Eskella said.

"Acolyte, this is Eskella, my daughter. She's one of the advanced students here, on her way to becoming Sith. If she minds herself," he explained.

"I'll keep quiet about your new charge, father. But I won't be there if whatever you're planning blows up in your face." She stormed out of the room leaving the two of them alone.

"Don't mind her. She's just sore that I'm keeping secrets. She growls but she's loyal. Now, I thought I heard Vemrin's voice in the hallway before you arrived. Did he make his move so soon?" Tremel asked.

All this talk about making moves was making her head spin. Sith politics was sounding like it would be infinitely more complicated than covert operations.

"He just introduced himself to me," she said, not wanting to bring up any of Vemrin's threats. Tremel stroked his chin in contemplation.

"If he didn't attack, he must not fully comprehend the threat you represent. Good, good. Still, I'd hoped we'd have more time. Vemrin's not the type to sniff around for too long before trying to take a bite. In a drive for sheer numbers, the criteria for Academy admittance has been relaxed. Now anyone with Force sensitivity is allowed entrance," he said with a shudder. "Vemrin is mixed blood. The invisible rot eating at the foundation of the Empire. He must not be allowed to advance."

_I could be mixed blood as well. But I guess when your father is on the Council, that gets overlooked_, she thought. She decided to be frank with Tremel for once and let out a little sass.

"So, you're an elitist snob," she said. It was a risk, of course, insulting her mentor. But it was a risk she was realizing she could afford.

"You say that like it's a bad thing. It's the Sith way. Only the best, only the most pure, should be good enough. Unfortunately, Vemrin's caught the eye of Darth Baras, one of the most influential Sith Lords. He's being groomed to be Baras's new apprentice. As Darth Baras's apprentice, the power at Vemrin's fingertips will be considerable. He could change the Sith for the worse. You must proceed to your next trial immediately. I want you to interrogate three prisoners in the Academy jails and decide their fates. Consider each criminal's story carefully. The decisions you make will be scrutinized, so let your passions guide your judgements. Go to the Academy prison. Speak to the head jailer Knash, and return to me after you've passed judgement on the prisoners."

The prison wasn't very far from Tremel's office. As she stepped through the door she could hear what she presumed to be Knash threatening a prisoner. Knash was leaned up against a crate facing a jail cell that was holding a cute blue Twi'lek girl wearing a slave shock collar.

"One more chirp from you, little bird, and you'll regret it," Knash said menacingly.

"Chirp, chirp chirp," the Twi'lek said. Arierra had to hold back a laugh.

_I like this one, she's got some nerve on her._

Knash apparently didn't like the joke. He pressed a button on a handheld device, and the shock collar activated, stinging the Twi'lek girl.

"Ow! Jerk! If you don't like that, just say so. I can do other animals too. Dire-cat, frog-dog, Kowakian monkey-lizard, you name it."

Knash ignored her as Arierra stepped up to the cage.

"You, I'm jailer Knash. I run these cells and slave pits. You're the acolyte Tremel sent for the test, right? He thinks highly of you," he said.

"That's good to hear. I want to do well," Arierra said.

"You should know," Knash continued, "this situation is highly unusual. Normally an acolyte goes off-world for the interrogation. Overseer Tremel had these three shipped in for you. He think's you're the next coming of Exar Kun. But you ought to know, Tremel ain't the only one paying attention to you."

Her thoughts briefly drifted to her father. Knash turned away from the Twi'lek girl and gestured to three other cells.

"These three prisoners have been transferred here for your inspection. You gotta interrogate them as needed, and then decide their fate. The convicted are usually executed or given a trial by combat to see if they're worthy. Whatever your decide, you will be the one to carry out the sentence."

Arierra took a long breath in. She couldn't remember the last time she had this much autonomy. Every moment of her life was devoted to a mission, devoted to keeping secrets from everyone around her. Everyone was pushing her to go the direction they wanted. She had been making decisions as other people for so long, she almost didn't know what it would be like to decide for herself. What would she, Arierra Sarrak, former Intelligence agent, current Sith acolyte, do in this situation? She was only a Sith acolyte by circumstance, not by any choice of her own. Her thoughts drifted to her mother, and the lessons she was taught in secret. She remembered her mother's greatest lesson: survival, at any cost.

"Alright, lets started. This one on the left—"

"You freaks aren't getting anything new out of me. Just do whatever you're going to do," the woman behind the bars growled. It was now or never.

"You can either talk to me or to the Inquisitors. And I promise, I have a much sunnier disposition," Arierra said, folding her arms across her chest.

"Get lost! I've been through this routine. I already know all your Inquisitors by name," the prisoner said.

"Impudent to the last," Knash commented. "As I was saying, she was sent to kill an Imperial spy in the Yavin system. Throughout her torture, she maintained that she was hired anonymously."

"Get it through your damn head—I had no idea he was Imperial, and I don't know who hired me!" she protested.

"So you're telling me you're not a Republic assassin?" Arierra asked.

"I'm not political. I work for whoever pays," the prisoner explained. Knash stepped in.

"The point is, she doesn't deny the charge. So, now you must decide. Execution or trial by combat. Which do you choose?"

The gears in her head were turning quickly. Knash had explained that the convicted were usually executed, not always. Meaning there was room for out of the box thinking.

"Neither actually. She could prove useful. Send her to Imperial Intelligence," Arierra demanded.

"I won't work for free," the prisoner chimed in.

"Hmm...you spared her. Interesting," Knash noted. He seemed genuinely perplexed by the outcome.

They walked to the second cell and the man behind the bars was practically on the floor, begging for his life.

"Please! I am a fellow Sith. Judge me with an open mind and grant me trial by combat. I beg you!" he sniveled.

"Your name?" she asked. Knash answered for him.

"This pile of waste is Devotek. Once a valued Sith champion, until he botched an Imperial mission and caused a thousand Imperial deaths. Now look at him," he said as he spat towards the cage.

"I served faithfully for twenty-four years, then one mistake and they threw me away!" Devotek mumbled. "Now I've been left here to rot. Please, let me feel the weight of a weapon once more."

"I don't do charity work," she said.

"Then I die a disgrace," he muttered.

Time for bit of exercise in her new abilities. She raised her arm and reached out. She felt past her skin, past the air, through the bars of the cell towards the man whimpering in front of her. She guided the Force around his throat and squeezed tight, and she could feel it, almost as if she were choking him with her own hands. It was exhilarating, and frightening. Slowly she closed her hand into a balled up fist, squeezing her fingers against her palm. Her fist was so tight her nails were digging into her skin. She felt his fear, felt his terror, and then felt nothing. Devotek fell to the floor, dead.

"Good. Now I won't have to look at his sad weathered face anymore," Knash said as he spat towards Devotek's fresh corpse. "Thank you."

She felt anger rise in her. "That man served for a long time. You should be more respectful," she growled.

"This last prisoner is a bit of a puzzle. He's called Brehg, and he's a jittery little wretch. Suspected of supplying forged documents to Republic agents. Strangely enough, he maintains his innocence despite being severely tortured," Knash explained.

Brehg was a different species than Jheeg, but just as ugly. Arierra pulled out her translator. It was doubtful this alien spoke Basic.

"That's because innocent I am! Believe me, you gotta—I had nothing to do with forging no papers! Set up! I was set up!"

Arierra chuckled. "Are you trying to tell me you've led a clean life?"

"Well, I never said that," Brehg admitted. "Did some time in a Republic jail for forgery, so I was the perfect candidate to implicate in this. But I've been straight ever seen getting out. I swear!"

"Hmmm...he's never wavered from that line, and the evidence is circumstantial. I suppose it's possible he didn't do it. What do you decide?" Knash asked.

It wasn't much to go on. He seemed innocent, but he could be lying. Either way, it was an easy answer.

"I don't care if he's innocent or not. Torture him enough and he'll confess!" She reached out with the Force again. It was so much easier the second time around. Just as he was about to lose consciousness, she slammed him to the bottom of his cell.

"It's not fair!" Brehg cried out.

"Shut up you fidgety fool! The decision's been made," Knash said. "Well, I guess it's back off to the Inquisitors for him. That's that. You're an interesting one, kid. I can see why people are keeping tabs on you. Head back to Overseer Tremel and see what he thinks of your choices."

Back in Tremel's office, Arierra waited with increasing nerves. Tremel stepped inside soon after she did.

"Sorry to make you wait, acolyte. These interruptions are incredibly annoying. Now, onto the business at hand: your test in the jails. First the assassin. She attempted to kill an Imperial spy but was unaware of her client's affiliation. You assigned her to Imperial Intelligence. I commend you, that was excellent thinking. Never waste a potential resource."

"Thank you, Overseer. I'm glad you approve," Arierra said quietly.

"What's more important is that Darth Baras would approve. Now, the failed warrior Devotek. He wanted combat but you struck him down. Perfect. The man was utterly useless. Devotek was an utter waste of space."

"I took no pleasure in killing him," Arierra admitted.

"And why would you? It's like taking out the trash. You don't think about it, you just do it. Once something is no longer useful, it should be eradicated. Remember that. Now, the forger you sent back for more torture even though he seemed innocent. A strong decision. Leave no stone unturned."

"A ripple from even a tiny stone can flow a great distance," she said, quoting a Jedi proverb her mother once told her.

"Well, look who turned deep and insightful," Tremel muttered with a smirk.

"Each time, each prisoner, you made the best possible decision. You may yet be able to challenge Vemrin for Darth Baras' attention."

"Thank you, Overseer,"

"Thank yourself, acolyte. It's performances like this that just might beat the extreme odds we're facing. You must always be thinking, considering every angle. Aside from a strong and skilled sword arm, this will be what impresses Darth Baras the most. You're beginning to understand what it means to be Sith.

"Because you were forced into the academy ahead of schedule, Darth Baras will be predisposed to judging you severely. And by severely, I mean fatally. Now, we must hurry to your next trial. Every moment that passes we risk discovery before we're ready."


End file.
